The Memory of A Red Rose
by Andrea Sinisterra
Summary: Inspired by one of Gabriel García Márquez' most outstanding works. It doesn't matter how much you love, doesn't matter the intensity and sincerity of your love... Fate isn't always on your side.


Hello people. Please, let me warn you beforehand. This was the first fic I EVER wrote, it's not one of my best works, but it did get quite a response.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sailor Moon *I wish*, nor any of its characters, I'm just borrowing them for the time being.  
  
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The Memory of A Red Rose  
By Andrea Sinisterra  
  
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"We can cure physical disease with medicine,  
But the only cure for loneliness,  
Despair and hopelessness is love."  
  
- Mother Teresa  
  
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Somewhere in the balcony of a local house, in those of the streets of England, a tall woman, with short blond hair, admired the beautiful, breathtaking ocean, that reflected the pretty colors of the setting sun, and of the rising moon, feeling the breeze brushing her hair, with its cool touch sending shivers down her spine, listening to the melodic music of the angelic birds, and hearing the sound of the water crashing against the rocks.  
  
This woman, of about 50 years, had unknown secrets, bared in the deepest of her heart, soul, and mind. Secrets that no one knew, and that will never understand. Everyday without exception, she would carry a red rose, in full bloom, in her ear. No one knew why, only she knew, and a long lost memory.  
  
She was rich, very rich as a matter of fact. Rumors said that she had worked all her life for the right to stand in those shoes, that were hers now, other rumors said that all the money came from a lover she had had a long time ago. But only she knew the answer, although it was hard for her to remember, she always tried to keep him in mind, and never forget about him, it was like a promise.  
  
***  
25 years ago…  
***  
  
A man and a woman were kissing in the sunset sky, her golden hair, reflecting the pinks and the oranges of the setting sun. Her eyes were closed, delighted in the sweet flavors of his lips, submerged in her own fantasy dream, and just the thought of his lips, crashing against hers in a passionate kiss sent shivers of delight down her spine.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity, they broke apart, gasping for air, he said, "I swear that I'm never, never going to be old." She thought that what he meant by that was that he was going to fight against life itself, till the end of time. But what she didn't realize was that he was going to commit suicide at the age of 60. "I must go to war, for I must defend my country. It's time for me to go, my lady." he took her hand and kissed the top of it, ever so gently.   
  
"I know, but can't you stay a little longer?" she knew deep inside, that she was being selfish, but she couldn't deny the fact that she was scared for him, and for herself. She was beginning to fall in love and that only made it more difficult. "But what if you get injured... or worse, what if you get yourself killed!"  
  
His dark mass of hair, flowing with the cool night breeze, the muscles of his face seemed to relax, and his voice was soft and caring. "Then I'd die a happy man... because of you, my love." he replied caressing her cheek. "I love you, princess,"   
  
"And I love you, too" They kissed again, deep and gentle. Then he started to walk backwards, and ever so slowly, turned around, walk away, and out of her life. *Wait* she cried, but no words seemed to come out of her mouth. That was the last time she saw him alive.  
  
But it wasn't until six months later that she received a letter telling her that he died in battle as a honorable men, defending a friend. Since then, she'd been a lonely woman, not able to fall in love again, because of memories that kept haunting her dreams, her heart, her thoughts, her soul. Nothing will never be the same, or at least to her. She could only remember his last words. He had said: - Remember me with a rose - before he walked away, only to stand just in front of death's awaiting arms. And, since that day she carries a rose, a red rose, in full bloom, in memory of a man that she had loved, and that will always will.  
***  
THE END  
  
  
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"In loving memory of Aracely Comrie."  
  
  
Aracely Comrie was a woman known for her gentle and caring heart.  
She was my best friend's mother. She will be missed, and forever loved.  
She died of cancer on February 16th, 1997.  
  
  
  
  
  
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Got inspired by this book: El Amor En Los Tiempos De Cólera, by Gabriel García Márquez. You should go and read it, it will steal you a tear or two. 


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